


Bruce, Clark, Lex, Kryptonite

by GraceEliz



Series: Why don't we just break the rules already? [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Kryptonite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-12 22:12:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19584979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraceEliz/pseuds/GraceEliz
Summary: All Clark sees is green green green.





	Bruce, Clark, Lex, Kryptonite

**Author's Note:**

> This goes with my series where Bruce, Lex, Tony Stark and Harvey Dent grew up together. It's set to go a few years into Clark and Bruce's relationship. For me, that's...uh...hang on a minute *where's my timeline* *I'm going to have to make one* Done it, took forever. This fic takes place in late 1988. My timeline will eventually be posted.

Clark can’t even think. All that exists is pain and that green green green crawling up his mind and into every cell. His body rebels, every part of him too pained to scream out. All Clark can do is gasp, gasp, gasp. Bruce will come. Bruce will save him. They belong to each other and no-one else, so Lex Luthor – they’re meant to be friends, the used to be friends – has no claim over him except his weakness to the green green green. 

“Luthor!” Bruce’s voice sounds like it’s coming through cotton wool, but he’d know him anywhere, Batman’s growl or the softest whisper. This is a bit different. Not the Bat voice but not Brucie either. Something – sad? What is he saying? If he can just focus, just get through the fog and green green green the he will know, will be able to hear Bruce’s heart. 

Heartbeat? 

Where is Bruce’s heartbeat? He can’t hear it, and it isn’t because he’s too far away, Bruce is here, but his heart his heart where is Bruce’s heartbeat he can’t hear it he’s gone gone where is Bruce where where where Bruce Bruce Bruce Bruce no  
Bruce’s heart lives in his chest and he can’t hear it are they dying? Is this how it will feel? Like emptiness and tearing in his chest his heart stops stops stops Bruce is his heart without Bruce he is nothing more than danger danger and the climbing green green green where is Bruce where is his brother his most-close his other part his heartbeat where is he gone is he gone they are gone gone together he will not stay without Bruce where are they where no no nononoNONO

_Badump_  
Badump  
Badumpbadumpbadump 

There! 

Bruce is there again, the constant thrum in his ears, as constant as his own heartbeat. The green leeches out into an office, chrome and shining, clear glass windows looking over Metropolis. The eagle’s eyrie. Lex Luthor’s office with the man himself silhouetted against the climbing grey light of dawn is not what he wants to see coming out of the green haze. He focuses on the sound of Bruce’s heartbeat drumming in his heart, too fast, and then the words. Vitally important that you have an anchor, runs Bruce’s voice in his memory, something to pull yourself down with. 

“Lex, please. You can’t _do_ this!” Wait, Bruce is pleading? Bruce doesn’t plead. This is wrong. Something is very wrong for Bruce to sound so distressed. Clark feet feel warm, and when he looks down he can make out Bruce’s dark cloak just covering them. Comfort, in chaos. 

“Oh for God’s sake, Bruce. He is an alien. Look at the damage he caused!” Luthor sounds as angry and exasperated as Clark as ever heard him. “He needs contained,” spits Luthor, “so that we can put him down if we have to.”

Bruce’s heart skips, breath catching. Clark feels Bruce’s hands on his back, supporting him so he can stand and squint blearily into the lightening sky. The sun is already clearing his migraine and lifting the lead weight from his joints. This isn’t over, yet. Bruce hasn’t responded to Luthor. The cowl is off – the cowl is off? What? Confusion clouds Clark’s eyes. The agony he can see in his friend, his brother, it hurts so much. Let me help, he tries to say, let me share your pain? Bruce turns slowly to Luthor. 

“Lex, you are – my family,” croaks Bruce, “I love you.” What in the world? 

Luthor’s lips twist. “You welcomed the alien into your home.”

“You’re wrong about them, Lex,” chokes Bruce. Tears spill down his face and Clark can’t hold his agony back, pressing into his brother. Luthor – he looks like he’s been punched in the gut, knives dragged through his chest. What is their relationship? Why are they so broken by this encounter? Bruce is crying, Bruce his heartbeat is hurting and Clark wants it to stop, turning his fiercest glare on Luthor. He is ignored. 

“How?” demands Luthor, “Tell me how I am wrong, Bruce. You-” why is Luthor crying? Sometimes Clark feels a child and he does today, he’s so lost – “Bruce, you died because of him.” Oh. “You died and I – we had to bury a box, Bruce, you were gone-”

Oh.

Something catches in Bruce’s throat, and he lurches forwards as Luthor does and Clark is too slow nononono

“I’m sorry,” says Luthor into Bruce’s hair. They slide to the floor in a heap, Bruce crumpled into the older man in a manner he’s rarely seen. “Rob, I am so so sorry. I’m sorry,” a whispered litany of grief and sorrow. This – Clark is an intruder. He shouldn’t be here. There is no force that could make him leave.


End file.
